Breakfast of Champions
by HecateA
Summary: The most important meal of the day should be shared with some of your most important friends, or so Fleur and Viktor convince Harry. Oneshot. Written for the MC4 Spring Bingo.


**I thought this story was going to take way longer to write, but as it turns out my love of breakfast is so, so good. This friendship means so much to me, please enjoy! **

**Dedication: My "Existentialism and Brunch" squad. **

**Disclaimer: The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.**

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_**Spring Bingo entry information:**_

**Space Address : **3D

**Prompt: **Eggs

**Word Count: **1718

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**Breakfast of Champions **

After the Battle, Harry felt like a thousand hands touched him, hugged him, held him, shook his hand, and prodded him to make sure he really was alive. Part of him felt touch-starved and welcomed the reminders that he was indeed still breathing and real, but part of him felt underserving and overstimulated, begging for him to run away and hide. Mostly, he couldn't believe it.

One of the hugs he hadn't been expecting was from Fleur Delacour, who wrapped her arms around him just as he felt as if the weight of his own bones was about to bring him down.

"For Cédric," she whispered in his ear. She pulled back and smiled at him, hands still on his arms.

Harry nodded.

"He would be proud," Fleur said.

"Yeah," Harry said, mouth pasty.

* * *

"'arry," Fleur told him after a Burrow Family Dinner. "Viktor reminded me that I had to invite you to Brunch next week."

"Brunch?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Fleur nodded from her perch on Bill's knee. "We make sure to see each other once a month to stay in touch and catch up. We 'ad never invited you before because you were not an adult—you could not be running around on your own, and you 'ad school. You could also not drink mimosas, and that is half the point."

"Oh," Harry said. "You've been doing that since the Tournament ended?"

Fleur nodded and pushed her hair behind her ear. She bit her lip.

"It was not good," Fleur said. "Viktor and I both thought we 'ad to turn it into something different than it was."

"That's smart," Harry said. "Yeah, umm, I'd love to come. If Kingsley doesn't need me for anything…"

"Don't be silly," Fleur said. "Kingsley is a smart man, he can do without the Boy Who Lives for a day off which 'e desperately deserves, and if he cannot think of something, then I will gladly assist him."

Bill laughed, looking at Fleur fondly.

"I think they can spare you, Harry," Bill said. "Take a break."

"Brunch it is," Harry said, mostly because he was scared of disagreeing with Fleur. "Umm… where..?"

"That is a complicated question," Fleur said. "Why don't I just pick you up and you will see?"

* * *

"Viktor and I discussed this lengthily," Fleur said, as she and Harry walked away from the Burrow and its wards. "We decided to bring you to one of our favourite places."

"Okay," Harry said.

"There is a portkey involved," Fleur said. "I hope that is okay."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Umm, where are we going?"

"Too far to Apparate," Fleur said.

'Too far to Apparate,' in Fleur's book, turned out to be _Spain. _

"I don't have a passport," Harry told her, panicking.

"A what?" Fleur said. She looked at her watch quickly. "_Putain! _We're late, I miscalculated the time zones. Poor Viktor, I do this every time…"

She dragged him through the streets of what she mentioned quickly was Barcelona.

"Fleur I've never left the country," Harry said, trying to convey how intense this was.

"Well now is a good time to start!" Fleur said.

"Does Bill know that brunch involves international travel, because if he did and didn't warn me…"

Fleur spun around and put her arms on Harry's shoulders.

"I will say this once and only once," Fleur said, starring Harry down. "You are seventeen years old. You have saved the wizarding world on multiple occasions. You have sacrificed more than I think you will ever realize. I don't know how to recover stolen childhoods, but I do know that this place makes omelets out of potato and they will give you one with freshly-squeezed orange juice. For once, you need to stop worrying."

"Okay," Harry said. "Okay, I'll drink the juice."

And, as it turned out, his eggs were delicious too.

* * *

In three months, Harry had been to five new countries. There was Greece, Germany, Croatia, Italy, and now Sweden.

"This was delicious," Fleur said as they strolled out of the restaurant. "I do believe Harry has been a part of this little enterprise long enough for choose our next rendez-vous place."

"Me?" Harry said. "Oh, no, I don't know anything."

"It's only fair," Viktor said.

"Alright," Harry said hesitantly. "Umm… How do you guys find these places?"

"I ask my teammates," Viktor said. "They're from everywhere and we all travel wildly."

Harry bit his lip. That wasn't exactly going to work for him.

"Think of a place where you would like to go," Fleur said. "There is good food to be eaten everywhere in the world."

"Shocking, from a French woman," Viktor said. Fleur elbowed him.

"It's as good a place to start as any," Fleur said.

"I don't know," Harry said. "I've… I've never thought of traveling. I didn't really…"

"Think past Voldemort," Fleur said. Viktor frowned at the name, but Harry nodded along.

"Yeah. I… I suppose you're right."

Fleur squeezed his hand.

"Well, you don't have anything limiting you now," Fleur said. "Though of course, leaving Europe would take much longer to organize, so let's exhaust this continent first."

"I don't get to choose where we travel for Quidditch, so I choose here," Viktor said. "Just think of a place to go."

"Okay," Harry said.

"And you're not allowed to ask Charlie for recommendations in Romania," Fleur said warningly. "This has to be about what you want."

"Okay, okay," Harry said. "I promise. How about somewhere in… somewhere in Belgium?"

He'd seen Belgian waffles in the frozen section of the superstore millions of times. He'd asked Aunt Petunia once if Belgium was the best place for waffles, and she'd told him it was a stupid question without answering. No better way to find out now, Harry supposed.

"Belgium it is," Viktor said. "I'll wait for your next owl."

* * *

"Welcome to France!" Fleur said, beaming as he and Viktor stepped into the café. She kissed all of their cheeks and dragged them to the pastry counter. Harry didn't even look up at the chalkboards hanging behind the counter, at the list of coffee roasts and specialty beverages—his eyes were just drawn to the pastry shelves. Croissants, almond croissants, pains aux chocolats, palmiers, multiple flavours of danishes, brioches, quiches, choux, tartlets…

"Merlin…" Harry whispered.

"Don't get attached to any of those," Fleur said. "They also have a crêpe menu."

* * *

Fleur and Harry had been giddy since Arthur's birthday dinner on Friday night. They had asked the questions in a thousand times, but still gossiped and theorized as they navigated their way across downtown Sofia.

"What do you suppose she is like?" Fleur asked again.

"I have no idea," Harry said. "She must like Quidditch…"

"You and Ginny both!" Fleur huffed. "Not everything in life is about _Quidditch_."

"Viktor's a professional! She must like Quidditch if she's going out with him—or if she puts up with all the traveling and hours he does…"

"Maybe she just likes her men quiet, tall, and dark-humoured," Fleur said.

They had brought flowers along, which felt like the right thing to do to thank Marina for cooking them breakfast. Hermione had refused to spill any of the secrets Viktor was keeping about his new girlfriend, but she had promised that Bulgarian breakfast—be it banista, popara, princesses, or mekista—would not disappoint.

* * *

He kept sneaking glances at the view outside—Amsterdammers peddling by, traffic, dog-walkers, the canals… He'd added four other countries to his repertoire, since they'd gone back to the Czech Republic twice now.

"I appreciate your accommodations in changing plans at the last minute," Viktor said, piercing a strawberry with his fork.

"Anything for my _favourite _little Quidditch star," Fleur said, cooing to make Viktor blush.

"I appreciate even more now that I know what pannenkoeken is," Harry said. "This is delicious."

"I agree, but Fleur, you're eating very little," Viktor said.

"Oh, don't worry about me," Fleur said, readjusting the napkin on her lap. "I… Well, Bill and I had agreed to tell family all at once at dinner this Sunday, but Harry—I think you and I are friends, yes?"

"Umm, yeah, I think so," Harry frowned.

"Perfect! Then I can tell you," Fleur said. She looked down and smiling at her lap before looking up again. "I am pregnant."

"Congratulations!" Viktor said, jumping to his feet. Fleur laughed and rose to hug him. Harry rounded the table and held her too, whispering his congratulations.

"How far along are you?" Viktor asked.

"Just a few months," Fleur said, waving her hand and taking her seat again. "We… we've just told my family in France last week, because the Healers at St-Mungo's… we thought there might be a problem with the baby, and we had to wait a bit."

"I'm so sorry," Harry said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, we're both fine now," Fleur said. "But… it was scary. There has been so much loss, life has been so complicated, we have been waiting so long for something…"

"For something good to happen," Harry finished.

Fleur nodded.

"For some good news. For there to be a win," she said. She took a deep breath, and Harry took her hand under the table. Viktor reached for her other hand.

"Thank you, I'm okay," Fleur said.

"I am happy for you," Viktor said.

"Me too," Harry agreed.

Fleur smiled and took a shaky breath.

"You know, I think the war started for me during that tournament," Fleur said quietly. "Harry, I know you were in it far longer, but… but I had never been tortured before then. I had never been cursed, I had never thought I might die. That violence, and the way it was allowed to grow and fall down on _children _for all intents and purposes, was inacceptable. I will not let that happen to this little one."

"It won't have to," Harry said. "That's the point of us, of what we did."

"Yes," Viktor nodded. They didn't talk about the war frequently. They didn't talk about the damage of the Tournament, about losing Cedric, about how Viktor had been possessed, how Fleur had been tortured.

"This baby will have love and friendship and curiosity and roots that stretch borders and time zones instead," Fleur said. She squeezed their hands. "That is what I am thankful for."


End file.
